


liminal orange

by jyanyongs (betamax524)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Experimental Style, Gen, Psychological Horror, Unsettling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betamax524/pseuds/jyanyongs
Summary: Johnny grunts, dragging the obnoxiously orange luggage trolley to his backseat, strapping it down with great care.“Why is your stuff out here in the first place?”Already in the passenger’s seat, the stranger stares at him again. “It’s not mine.”“So why are we taking it?”“It’s for you.”
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	liminal orange

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a [prompt](https://twitter.com/KITTYONGlE/status/1297906342288531457?s=19) i came up with for [fuIImarks](http://twitter.com/fuiimarks) picture au game. 
> 
> -
> 
> warnings for unreality i guess? basically this is just a Weird fic in general with some shades of psychological horror. everything is ambiguous. feel free to leave theories and questions though, id love to see how readers interpret this :3

Johnny’s been driving for quite some time. In fact, he can barely remember when he started. 

He drives in empty streets, through ghost towns, nothing but the sky as company. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, all he knows is that there’s a voice in his head that tells him to keep going. 

Eventually, he finds himself driving on some coast, the sun beating down on the road. He hasn’t seen another person for days, maybe even months now, so when he spots someone in the middle of the road, he has to stop and look twice.

It’s a young man, and his bleach-blonde hair reflects the sunlight so strongly that it makes Johnny wince. He doesn’t even notice Johnny at first, too absorbed into whatever he’s seeing through his binoculars.

“Excuse me?” Johnny says awkwardly.

The man turns to him, and his eyes grow wide. “I need your help,” he says, “I’m looking for something.”

Johnny furrows his brows, stepping closer. “You lost something?”

He looks up at Johnny — he’s almost a head shorter, now that Johnny’s beside him — and blinks. “Actually, I think I’ve found it,” he says, “But I need help getting it.”

He hands Johnny his binoculars, and when Johnny looks through them, he immediately sees a seaside cave, a bright orange rectangle resting just outside it.

“I’ve been walking for a long time,” the young man explains, “Can you take me there in your car?”

Johnny hums. The bright orange sears into his eyes, as if calling him.

“Sure.”

***

The drive to the cave feels like a few days, but the sun never sets. Johnny barely remembers he has a passenger, the young man sitting quietly with a blue backpack on his lap.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” Johnny says in the awkward silence.

The stranger turns to look at him. “Not yet.”

Johnny hums, and only then does the sun slowly start to set.

***

The sky is a vivid orange by the time Johnny can see the cave with his bare eyes. “This car can’t handle driving on rocks,” he says, moving to get out of the car. The cave is now only a few feet away, the orange rectangle revealing itself as a luggage trolley.

The young man gets out of the car as well, and Johnny follows his lead. Johnny watches as he grips the handle and pulls.

It doesn’t budge.

Johnny steps forward, taking the handle himself, and he finds it’s heavier than it looks. Much heavier.

The young man only stares at him, and then starts walking back to the car.

***

Johnny grunts, dragging the obnoxiously orange luggage trolley to his backseat, strapping it down with great care.

“Why is your stuff out here in the first place?”

Already in the passenger’s seat, the stranger stares at him again. “It’s not mine.”

“So why are we taking it?”

“It’s for you.”

Johnny blinks.

“Your name is Johnny Suh, right?” The young man continues, “It’s right there.”

Sure enough, when Johnny turns to look at the luggage again, his name is on it. In his own handwriting, even.

“My name is Taeyong,” the stranger says, “So it’s not mine.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Johnny says slowly, “Why were you looking for this?”

“They told me to give it to you,” Taeyong says, “I’ve been waiting for a while.”

Something tugs at the back of Johnny’s mind, but it slips away when Johnny closes his eyes to chase it. 

“Since it’s for me, I should see what’s inside, right?”

“Not yet,” Taeyong says flatly, “We have to be in a safe place.”

“We?”

Taeyong smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m supposed to stay with you until you decide what to do with that,” he says, gesturing to the luggage.

“They said that?” Johnny says, and Taeyong nods.

Johnny gets the feeling that They can’t be argued with.

***

They’re back on the road before Johnny realizes it, Taeyong taking an old map out from his bag and unfolding it against the still-warm dashboard.

“There,” he says, pointing to a circle of faded red ink, “Just keep driving.”

Johnny nods.

Taeyong is quiet for the rest of the drive, staring out the window.

***

The moon is high in the sky, full and bright, when Johnny hears a strange sound. Taeyong is fast asleep, his head against the window, so Johnny’s gaze shifts to the rearview mirror, right at his mysterious luggage.

Silence.

Johnny huffs.

When he takes his eyes back to the road, the sound returns, a muffled scratching sound. His eyes flit to the rearview mirror, and the car is silent again.

“You want to open it?” Taeyong says, but when Johnny turns to look at him, he’s still asleep.

He shakes his head. He needs to get some sleep.

***

The motel is small, unassuming, and most likely abandoned. Johnny parks right in front, and he sighs when he remembers what’s in his backseat.

He lugs it behind himself as they walk into the lobby, the case even heavier than he remembers. The lobby is empty, a thin sheen of dust resting on everything, but there’s a set of two keys on the front desk, the metal brand new.

Room 127, the keyring reads, and Johnny sees that each key has their names engraved on the head.

“They’ve set it all up, it seems,” Taeyong says.

Makes sense, Johnny thinks. He doesn’t know why, but it feels like he trusts Them. Or he should trust Them. Either of the two.

Taeyong glances at the luggage. “Our room is upstairs, let me bring that for you.”

Johnny doesn’t even get to speak before Taeyong takes the trolley by the handle, effortlessly carrying it up the stairs like it weighs nothing.

***

The room welcomes them with a vintage, yet tasteful, orange-colored wallpaper. There are two single beds, separated by a small nightstand. There’s a small February calendar on the nightstand, the first day crossed out with a red pen. 

Taeyong lifts up the luggage and sets it on a wooden table in the corner.

“Can I open it now?” Johnny says, stepping closer.

“You can open it or you can get rid of it,” Taeyong says lightly, sitting on one bed, “Those are your choices.”

“Get rid of it?” Johnny asks, “But this is for me, isn’t it?”

Taeyong shrugs. “That’s what they told me.”

Johnny stares at the luggage, at the neon color, at his scrawled writing on the front that reads _Property of Johnny Suh._

“Do I have to decide now?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “Take all the time you need.”

Johnny closes his eyes.

***

There’s a knock on the door, and Johnny opens it to find a warm meal set on a serving trolley. His stomach growls, and he forgets the luggage for a moment, wheeling it into the room.

He eats with Taeyong, each sitting on one bed and using the serving trays as tables.

“Better than the food last night,” Taeyong says, wiping at his mouth.

“Last night?”

“Yes,” Taeyong says, looking at him strangely, “We’ve been here for a few days, Johnny.”

Johnny blinks. He looks at the calendar, and sees that it’s on March, one week already crossed out with red pen.

“It’s okay,” Taeyong says, “Days blur together in places like this. At least they left us a calendar so we could keep track”

Johnny hums.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Taeyong says, pointing at the table in the corner.

“Not yet,” Johnny says.

“Okay,” Taeyong says, “Goodnight Johnny.”

Johnny closes his eyes, and he falls asleep.

***

When Johnny opens his eyes, it’s still dark, and he has to fumble around to turn on the bedside lamp.

When he sits up, the luggage is beside him, on the small, empty space on his bed.

Taeyong is fast asleep, back turned towards him.

Johnny rests a hand on the orange case, and he feels it shake slightly, as if something was trying to get out. He furrows his brows, fingers moving towards the zipper.

It belongs to him anyways, right? Surely he’s meant to open it.

Still, his fingers shake when he drags the zipper back, and Johnny holds his breath before opening it.

Silence.

There’s a small piece of paper inside, face down, but the ink bleeds through the back slightly.

“Is this all?” Johnny says out loud, reaching for the paper and turning it around. The ink seems fresh, Johnny’s fingertips being slightly stained grey.

_**MISSING: Johnny Suh** _  
_**Last seen on April 4th** _

April 4th? Johnny’s head whips to the calendar on the nightstand. It’s only April 2nd. He reaches forward to grab the calendar, but then Taeyong stirs.

Taeyong sits up, and he looks at the open luggage on Johnny’s bed.

“Ah, so you decided to open it.”

“I don’t understand,” Johnny says, voice shaking as Taeyong stretches and stands up, “Is this some kind of joke?”

He holds up the paper, and Taeyong squints, leaning in to take a closer look.

“It must be time then,” Taeyong says. He reaches for the luggage, and slams the lid down.

The world goes dark.

***

On April 9th, a car is found by the sea, doors wide open. There’s an orange luggage trolley in the back seat, duct tape sealing it shut.

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> twt: [jyanyongs](https://twitter.com/jyanyongs)


End file.
